At The End Of The Day
by ILoveJorja
Summary: Grissom and Sara share a private moment every day. GSR, emphasis Romance.


I never mean to trample on copyrighted work, including the incomparable CSI and the movie by this title.

Author's note: I started out to write a smutty story, but this one bubbled up instead. So I let it. Reviews are always welcome.

**AT THE END OF THE DAY**

Grissom and Sara had finally embarked on the best and most rewarding chapter of their relationship. It was not all smooth sailing, but then what love affair is? The freedom to express their long-suppressed feelings for each other felt boundless. Just a touch, a hug, a squeeze of the hand felt so much more exciting than they ever could have believed. And the sex? The sex was great. Fireworks, romance, candles and wine, cheesy music, it was all that and more. But it was the love that was better. Making love didn't even cover it; they were creating love, nurturing love, letting love blossom inside for the first time in their lives.

_Every time I see her, it's like it's the first time,_ Grissom thought. _I can't believe this beautiful woman is mine, and that she loves ME_.

_I hear his voice, and my heart lifts, _Sara thought._ I touch him, and the electricity? We could light up the Strip with it._ She smiled.

Sara finished up her case and got ready to go. She lingered in Grissom's doorway, as she always did at the end of the day. It was comforting to see him beavering away at his desk, and then to share that intimate smile that said: "We'll be together, soon." The light from the hall lit her features, her flawless skin, the glints in her hair. Her expressive brown eyes would be dreamy, full of love.

He would glance up, distracted, and then his expression would change in an instant. _Sara_. _Sara's here._ His whole face softened, the lines of worry would melt like a snowflake. And then he would wait for the words that wiped away the grim events of the day. The words that made his day worth it.

"Good night, Gil."

"Good night, Sara."

He loved to see her like that. Her long coltish legs silhouetted in the doorway. The way she leaned on the door frame, arms crossed, but in comfort, not anger. It seemed like she was giving herself the goodnight hug they both wanted. The air in the room became warmer in those few moments. There was a scent in the air, like lilacs, or honeysuckle, or honey warmed by the sun.

Everything else faded away. The bustle of the lab, hurried footsteps, whirring machines, jangling phones...all faded but for her husky warm voice and his deeper response.

"Good night, Gil."

"Good night, Sara."

Sometimes he would add, _Nice work on the case,_ or the like, but it was enough, those three little words.

It had become a habit over the years. Sara would linger until he looked up and smiled at her, his eyes softening for just a moment. Even when things were bad between them, when the tension was high, or they had been butting heads just hours before, Sara would still stop at his office on her way out. Sometimes he would have been called away and the office was barren, and then they both missed it, like they had misplaced something but weren't quite sure what they were looking for.

If he had purposefully left before she arrived, she knew that meant he wasn't ready to talk yet, and she would just have to be patient. Lord knows she had practice with patience.

Grissom didn't smile much, so it was so much more meaningful when he did. Just as his praise was so rare that it was always cherished by the recipient. He laughed even less often, but then his job was not built on laughter. Sara smiled and laughed for the two of them. It was one of the most endearing things about her. You could be having a really crappy day, and then her smile would dazzle you and it didn't matter. Sara would smile at one of her coworkers and they would walk away with a goofy look—Grissom was sure his was the goofiest.

He knew she treasured it too, this little habit, this comforting routine. It was the kind of thing couples did, that they never talked about or could explain to anyone else.

It was Sara's touchstone, one that gave her balance in her often precarious emotional life. She could count on it, and look forward to it, without ever having to analyze it.

_When I am an old old man,_ Grissom thought,_ "I will remember these words, and these moments, and be content. I will be happy, that I had such love in my life._

"Good night, Gil."

"Good night, Sara."

**THE END**


End file.
